B00CGOH3US EBOK Page 9

"Aye. 'Twas but four days walk betwixt our lands, so I was able to return home once or twice a year. Besides, his son Osmund was of a like age and we became as brothers."

  He paused in his tale to turn the rabbit over the fire so it wouldn't burn.

  "When I reached my seventeenth year, we set out on a journey to Egremont to fetch Osmund's intended bride. He and I rode with his father and half of The Black's knights. 'Twas a dark time for England, when the barbarians of the north plagued the land far and wide. We stayed ever vigilant, always on guard against attack. Little did we know there was another danger lurking near. Something more evil and deadly than the Vikings." A dark shadow passed over his face, like a cloud covering the sun. "Something hunting us."

  "What?" she asked, although she already suspected the answer.

  "Dragons. Three of them. They flew out of the sky like demons from hell. We had heard tales of winged creatures that breathed fire, but 'twas the first time any of us had ever seen them. They swooped down, burning grass, horses and men alike. I watched as half of the Black's men were either consumed by flames or mortally wounded by fang and claw. They attacked while we stood out in the open, defenseless against their power. We did not know how to fight them."

  He shifted his gaze back to the fire, staring at it, almost hypnotized by it. Did it remind him of the dragon's fire? she wondered.

  "They caught Osmund first. I watched him burn to death before my eyes and I could do naught to save him."

  Jill covered her mouth with her hand to stop a sob from escaping. Her throat ached from the effort of holding it inside. She couldn't imagine watching someone she loved die such a horrible, painful death.

  "Certain I would be next, I turned to see the beast almost upon me. Determined to fight to the very end, my last thought was to die with honor, with my sword in my hand."

  His words recalled the all too recent terror she'd felt when Baelin had chased after her in his dragon form. She couldn't imagine the horror he must have gone through, a boy who was not yet a man, witnessing so much death and then trying to be brave facing his own.

  "Somehow as the beast fell upon me, my sword found its mark and ran the creature through its black heart." His voice softened, the words broken. "I was knighted that very day, out there on a charred, bloody moor, by a man who had just lost his only son."

  Jill jumped when his golden dragon eyes suddenly turned her way. It was the second time she'd seen them take on that eerie, unnatural glow. Did high emotions trigger the transformation, or was it the dragon inside him rising to the surface?

  "I was knighted for slaying a dragon. It was the first of many."

  His body tensed and she knew his tale was not over. The worst was yet to come.

  "From that day on, we knew how to fight them. How to kill them. The Black and I dedicated our honor, our very lives, to destroying the beasts. Others soon joined us in our fight to rid the land of this winged plague. We called ourselves dragonslayers.

  Baelin looked away, shielding his own dragon eyes from her.

  "We learned that for centuries upon centuries, the creatures had lived peacefully high in the mountains, only venturing out of their dens to feed. The loss of a cow here or a few sheep there generally went unnoticed. But then the Dark Witch discovered a way to control them, to harness their power, and she began to use them against mortal man."

  "So, this Dark Witch, she's not human?"

  "Nay. She looks human enough, but she is not. As far as anyone knows, she has existed as long as the dragons have."

  He shifted where he sat, but still refused to look at her as he continued his tale. "Our battle was no longer against the dragons alone, but with the Dark Witch as she used them against us. Three years passed. Three long years of hunting these creatures with every waking hour. Then the day came when we faced her army, a thousand warriors strong, with countless dragons under her power in the air. By the end, we were defeated, our entire force destroyed."

  She watched as Baelin tensed, could tell by the way he clenched his fist that he was remembering holding his sword, reliving the battle.

  "That day, I held Amdarch the Black in my arms as he breathed his last."

  He glanced down at his hands, uncurling stiff fingers until the palms lay open. What did he see as he looked at them? Was it his sword, his only defense against the dragons? Or was it the blood of the man he loved like a father, slipping through his fingers as his life ebbed away?

  "To this day, I can still smell the stench of charred flesh and boiled blood as it poured in rivers from the lifeless bodies of the men around me. I can still hear the screams of agony from those who had yet to embrace the blessed relief of death. I can still feel the bloody battlefield beneath my feet as I stood surrounded by those dying men, awaiting my own."

  Jill shivered, held spellbound like a child listening to ghost stories around the campfire. But she had to remind herself this was no made-up tale meant to frighten small children. It was something he'd lived through. It was what made him who—or rather, what—he was.

  "But you didn't die."

  "Would that I had. Instead, the warriors captured me and took me before their queen, as a spoil of battle."

  "A spoil of battle?"

  "A token of their victory. A prize. And once inside her realm, instead of allowing me to die with honor, the Dark Witch offered to spare my life if I would serve her."

  "Serve her? How?"

  "Since I had managed to defeat so many of her dragons, she wanted me to fight for her, to use my sword in battle against my own people." His nostrils flared and his jaws clenched as he ground his back teeth. "And when I was not fighting, she wanted to use me…for other things."

  Jill sucked in a breath. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant. Baelin was a handsome man now. She could only imagine what a golden boy he must have been in his youth and what other things the witch might want from him.

  "What did you do?"

  "I refused. But she kept me there, deep in her mountain kingdom. Day and night, she tried to break me to her will until all I longed for was death. But she would not grant me that small mercy and I would not beg for it. Finally, she took the choice away from me. She turned me into the very creature I had hunted. I have been this way ever since."

  "But you were human. How could she turn you into a dragon?"

  "With her dark magic, she tore my human heart from my breast and replaced it with a dragon's."

  "You mean like some kind of medieval heart transplant?"

  He gave her a questioning look.

  "Never mind. After everything I've seen in the last twenty-four hours, I don't think there's much that can surprise me anymore." Jill paused as an image tickled her memory, of him naked in the firelight of the cave. "Is that how you got that wicked scar on your chest?"

  Baelin placed his hand over the spot. She wondered if he could feel through the layers of padding and mail to the dragon heart within, beating against his palm.

  "Aye."

  "So if the dragon's heart is inside of you, what did she do with yours?"

  "She put it in the dragon's breast, where it still beats to this day. Only by breaking the curse can I get it back and return to the man I once was."

  The silence of the night surrounded them, broken only by the occasional hiss of the fire as juice from the hare dripped into the flames. Finally, he looked at her. The glowing serpent eyes filled with anger and rage were gone. In their place were deep, soft pools of brown.

  A man's eyes.

  But they were no less powerful, searing her with their raw pain.

  "There you have it, Lady Jill," he spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have shown you my scars. What of yours?"

  What could she say? Her heart broke for this poor man who had been through so much. His face blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She sat frozen, unable to stop their fall.

  "Now that I've seen yours, mine don't seem to run nearly so deep."

&n
bsp; CHAPTER 9

  Jill groaned from under her blanket. Her nose felt like an ice cube had frozen on her face and her entire right side was numb from sleeping on the cold, hard ground.

  The day before had been fine—warmer than she expected England to be. But once the sun had set, it got downright chilly. Never an outdoorsy type of girl, she wasn't prepared for roughing it like this.

  She peeked over at the lump snoozing peacefully on the other side of the dwindling fire, wrapped up in his cloak like a caterpillar in a cocoon. He hadn't budged all night while she froze her butt off. Why didn't the cold to bother him?

  Probably because he's a walking furnace.

  Jill finally gave up the battle. It was just after dawn and she couldn't go back to sleep. Her back ached and at any moment her bladder was going to explode. She tossed her blankets aside and walked to the edge of the trees, venturing into the woods only far enough for privacy's sake and not far enough to get hopelessly lost.

  Without a port-a-john or outhouse in sight, Jill found a suitable spot and went pioneer. After heeding the call of nature, she glanced around for something to use for toilet paper—one of the many modern conveniences she was discovering it was very hard to live without. She eyed various plants with suspicion. It would be just her luck to wipe her butt with some strange variety of medieval poison ivy.

  She was almost done when a mail-clad bear came crashing through the underbrush. She screamed before she realized it was Baelin, sword raised and teeth bared.

  He came to a skidding halt and slowly lowered the sword, his mouth hanging open like a gaping fish. It was only when his eyes traveled down to where she squatted that Jill realized her gown was still hiked up to her waist, her rear end displayed for all the creatures of the forest to see, included one ogling dragon-knight.

  She bolted to her feet and batted her skirt down in a futile attempt to retain what little modesty she had left. Baelin looked away, his gaze darting from tree to tree. Anywhere but at her. He spun around and headed back to camp, only taking a few steps before he turned and retraced them.

  "My apologies, Lady Jill. I did not intend to dishonor you in any way. When I awoke and found you gone…"

  She cleared her throat in an effort to suppress the chuckle threatening to erupt. If it were possible, Baelin appeared more mortified about catching her in the embarrassing position than she did. He refused to look at her as he sheathed his sword.

  "That's okay. No harm, no foul. My honor is still intact. After all, it's not like you haven't seen me buck naked before."

  She heard him suck in a quick breath and a betraying flush crept up Baelin's neck. My God, he's blushing!

  "Were your father to find us like this, after spending the night alone together, we would be forced to marry…if he did not geld me first."

  "Well, since my father hasn't even been born yet, I think you're safe from a shotgun wedding any time soon," she said as she walked past him and headed back to the clearing.

  "I am surprised you are not already wed."

  "You and my mother both," she grumbled as they reached the camp and he began packing up their supplies.

  Baelin nodded in agreement. "I can understand her unease."

  "Excuse me?" Jill stopped in the middle of rolling up her blanket.

  He as if he wanted to say something but was having a difficult time finding the right words. "You are a bit old to be a maid, are you not?"

  "Why you—I'm not—Why does everyone keep saying that?" she sputtered. "I'm only twenty-nine and where I'm from, that's considered in the prime of life."

  Baelin shook his head. "I did not say you were old. I am just surprised you have remained this long without a man."

  "Well, now I never said anything about not being with a man."

  "What?"

  Jill couldn't help but roll her eyes. Here we go again. "Like I told them in the village. I'm not a virgin. I haven't been since I was seventeen and lost it to Tommy Henderson in the back of his dad's Lincoln Continental on prom night."

  "What do you mean you are not a virgin?" Baelin growled and his eyes did that shifting thing again, turning to a glowing gold. "The sacrifice is supposed to be pure."

  Not one to sleep around, Jill's pitiful little black book contained more blank pages than not. But to see Baelin's appalled look, you would think she was the biggest slut in the world.

  "Whoa, don't get snippy with me, buddy. It's not my fault. I tried to tell those crazy villagers I wasn't good sacrifice material but the old bat of a midwife lied and told them I was still a virgin—which, by the way, is not nearly as overrated in my time as it seems to be in yours. But, like it or not, you're stuck with me now."

  "Then there is no hope. It will not work."

  Jill watched his broad shoulders slump. At his desolate expression, she felt some of her pique ease. She had to remind herself this was not the twenty-first century, and people's values were light-years away from her own.

  "Look, I don't know what won't work or not, but if it takes breaking this voodoo curse of yours to get the time machine working again, let's get on with it."

  "But what is the use? If you are not pure, then you cannot be the one."

  Jill couldn't believe she needed to continually defend herself to the man. "Says who? Is it written in the tapestry that the girl has to be a virgin? Is there some rule in the dragon sacrifice handbook against it?"

  "I…nay. 'Tis just the way it has always been."

  "Then let's review the facts, shall we? When I saw the tapestry in my time, the girl had blonde hair, and now she has brown, like mine." She tugged at a chunk of her own hair for added emphasis. "You said in all the time you've had the tapestry, the girl had no face and now she does—mine. It seems to me some rules are meant to be broken here, or at least revised as we go along. So since I'm the one who won the door prize this time around, apparently my virginity or lack thereof doesn't have much bearing on this curse of yours."

  He looked unsure of her argument but she had to give him credit. The big dragon dude didn't completely discount her theory either.

  "Baelin, for better or worse, we're in this thing together. Let's just play along and see what happens. After all, what have we got to lose?"

  He shook his head as he tossed his satchel over his shoulder and began walking.

  "Everything."

  Jill felt like they'd been walking for a month. In reality, it'd been a little more than twenty-four hours since they started on this strange journey. Twenty-four long, foot-numbing, blister-inducing hours of walking without laying eyes on another single human being.

  She glanced at the man trudging his way through the forest beside her. Considering the fact he could spit fireballs at will and his shoulder blades sported dragon wings under his heavy cloak, she couldn't technically count him as a full-blooded human either.

  But there were moments, like last night by the fire, when he seemed all too human. For a brief time, she'd forgotten that he was part dragon and instead thought him a flesh and blood man, full of pain and heartache. A man who needed a friend more than anyone she'd ever known.

  But was she ready to be that to him? The little girl who constantly brought home stray animals begged to reach out and hold him until all the bad memories were chased away. But her alter ego, the woman who rationalized that she wasn't going to be here any longer than she had to be warned her against getting too attached. That road would only lead to heartache—probably for both of them.

  The rumble of Jill's empty stomach redirected her thoughts off the current path and onto something more basic. She swung her satchel off her shoulder and rummaged around inside. She pulled out a slightly bruised apple and prepared to take a bite.

  Baelin snagged her wrist and halted the apple before it reached her mouth, causing her teeth to gnash together with a hard click.

  "What are you doing?" he asked.

  "What does it look like? I'm going to eat an apple."

  He continued to hold onto
her wrist, denying her her breakfast.

  "Listen, I figure there's not a snowball's chance of getting a cup of coffee around here but if I don't get something to eat, I'm going to start getting grumpy and believe me, you don't want to be around me when that happens."

  He let go of her arm, but his expression remained doubtful. "You should not eat it uncooked. 'Tis unhealthy."

  "Says who? I'll have you know this apple is probably a lot healthier now than the ones are in my time with all the pesticides and hybridization that goes on. Besides, do you realize you lose half the vitamins and minerals when you cook fruits and vegetables? They are much better for you this way." She proceeded to take a big, healthy bite to prove it to him.

  He watched her closely, probably worried she might drop dead right in front of him, as if eating an apple was the most deadly thing a person could do. Okay, so it hadn't turned out so well for Snow White, but in the end she got a prince out of the deal, didn't she?

  "See. I'm fine and it tastes delicious." She groped around in her satchel and pulled out another apple, offering it to him. "Want one?"

  He looked horrified, as if she were offering him The apple. She had half a mind to check around for a big snake whispering, Go ahead. Take a bite. What harm can it do? The wily old serpent must've been somewhere close by, because the devil in her had her smiling her sweetest, most innocent smile and holding the apple out to him.

  "I dare you."

  Baelin's eyes narrowed, recognizing the challenge for what it was. He snatched the apple from her and took a bite, the crunch loud in the silence of the forest. He chewed slowly and swallowed with great care.

  Satisfied when he didn't immediately suffer death by fresh produce, he began walking again. Casting a sideways glance at his profile, Jill watched him take another bite. Not one to rub in a small victory, she took satisfaction in the look of pleasure on his face and found herself captivated by the way the tendons in his jaw worked as he chewed. Heavens to Betsy, even his face had muscles.

  He took another bite and juice squirted down his chin. When he licked it off, her fascination turned to shock.